Thine eyes
by Megwolf13
Summary: A story about eyes, and how they won't be quiet. Includes Ziva's and Tony's life stories later on. Multiple chapters. Rated T for language and later content.
1. Eyes that won't Pipe down

So, for me, midnight and 11:00 at night are the best times to be up and moving. They also happen to be my inspiring times, as I often walk around with music blasting into my ears. So, here's what came of it. There are multiple chapters that attempt to explain why Ziva and Tony are themselves. So, tell me what you think. This is rated T for language, just in case, and probably for other chapters.

Note- I don't own NCIS or any of its characters; I just write about them.

* * *

The eyes were the windows to the soul. Tony knew this because Ziva's wouldn't shut up. When he had first met her, here eyes were haughty, with a little flirt mixed in. When she spoke of Tali, the mask had slipped a little, and her eyes had shown a lifetime protecting those who you couldn't save, a lifetime of knowing that colors and emotions and sunshine were bad and black and white and masks and clouds were good. When she was angry, here eyes sparked with it, and it took nerves of steel not to flinch. After a while, she had less of a mask, and she had laughed. Heck, once he saw her trying air guitar! Once, they had been full of life, her smiles true, and her laughter full. Now, her eyes were full of pain, her smiles were fake, and her laughs hollow. Every motion was guarded, and nothing could make her mask slip, not even Abby. Once, she said that she was over Somalia, and if he hadn't known her, he would have agreed. But somewhere, in the deep recesses of her soul, Somalia was not over. And the only way to let those demons out was to open the floodgates. So, he planned an all-night flood-fest, planning to get her to talk or at least show him a little of the true Ziva.


	2. In the Eyes of the Beholder

**Here goes nothing. Please, tell me what you think. **

Ziva sighed and looked at her watch. If she wasn't dependent on Tony for a ride, she wouldn't be waiting for him to finish his paperwork. "Finally! Now, let's head home and order some pizza!"

"Tony, I said I would watch a movie with you, not spend the night."

"All right, no slumber-party pizza. But, I warn you now, the movie will make you want to cry."

"What's the movie?"

"Where the Red Fern Grows."

* * *

Tony looked over at Ziva. Her eyes were glued to the screen as Little Anne died from heartbreak. She looked at him and said, "Did you expect this to loosen me up? Did you expect this to make me tell you everything?"

He sighed. She knew, somehow, she knew. "No, but I was hoping you would talk."

"There is nothing to talk about."

"Ziva! I would agree with you, but you eyes. Your damn eyes!"

She looked at him in confusion. "My eyes?"

"Your eyes Ziva, you eyes, your damn eyes that won't shut up. When you're angry, I swear I see them produce sparks. When you're happy, you can see it. But now all I see is in those eyes is pain, a pain that will only go away if you talk about it."

She looked ready to interrupt, but he continued. "Don't tell me that it's over, because it isn't. You need to talk about it, but you won't. When I first met you, it would have been better to talk about your life, but you had begun healing, you had begun to be all right. Now, they don't just show a little pain, a little sadness. Now, they scream at me. Now, please tell me. Tell me everything."

She looked at him, her eyes staring past him. Physically, she might be here, but mentally, she was in Somalia. And so she told him. She told him her story. And he told her his. She let a few tears out, and he wiped them. She, in turn, sympathized. They both had no mother to speak of; their fathers had performed really badly in the father department. As she spoke, her eyes reflected the story she told. The story of Jenny and Tali and Somalia, the story of how her life had begun and of how she had begun to go down the road that led to Somalia.

* * *

He drove her home. He didn't know if she would thank him for this. But he knew she would be all right. He looked over at her, her face pressed to the window. In sleep, her features were serene, her expression one of pure innocence. He smiled, and brushed her hair out of her face. He arrived at her apartment and stopped the engine. He got out of the car, and walked over to her side. He opened her door and gently got her out, trying not to disturb her, as he was sure she would kill him if she woke up. He gently got to her door, and felt around until he found a spare key. He unlocked the door, and carefully got her into bed. She made a noise that sounded like a protest, and he smiled as she slept. Even in her sleep, she couldn't accept defeat. He thought about what she had told him, and felt so naïve. Gently, he held her face and kissed her cheek as she had done so long ago in the men's restroom. He carefully and quietly got out of her house, set her alarm, and locked the door behind him. He drove home, and pulled out his photos of her. None of them, except the one of her in Paris showed the true Ziva. Even the Paris one didn't show all of her. He would have to fix that. He sighed as he began to thinking about everything she had told him. He would memorize it, try to find the true Ziva, find out who she was in that maze of a life she had inhabited. He would find out what decisions led her down that long road to Somalia. Her coming to NCIS had taken her off that road, but Michael had led her back to that road. He would lead her back to the right road, or he would try his best. Maybe, just maybe, that would be good enough. Close to good enough would maybe be good enough. Maybe this would even make things right between them. With that in mind, he began typing the story of Ziva and who she was, who she had become, and who she could be.


	3. Bright eyes and Sad eyes

Three-year old Ziva David looked over at her baby sister in her old cradle. Her name was Tali, and she looked very cute. She smiled, and then frowned. Her dad didn't seem happy; in fact, he seemed disappointed just a little. She turned around to leave the room to find him when he appeared in the doorway. "Hi daddy!"

He smiled a tired smile at her and said, "Isn't she so cute?"

"She is. Don't worry daddy, maybe mommy will have a boy next time."

He smiled at this and said, "Maybe. Now, why don't you go say hi to mommy?"

"Okay. Bye daddy!"

She kissed him on the cheek and ran from the room, hoping mommy wasn't too tired to tell her a story.

* * *

Six-year old Ziva looked up from where she was playing dolls with her sister Tali. Tali, as usual, had Barbies, but she, also as usual, had a G.I. Joe doll rescuing Barbie and kicking Ken's b-u-t-t. Suddenly, she heard an explosion near her house. She heard screaming, and saw people running towards the house, where a guest had been staying. She ran towards the bushes, away from the explosions and screams and confusion, into the safe quiet bushes where she and Tali waited for someone, somewhere, to realize that they were scared. After what seemed like forever, but in reality was only a few hours, she heard her father calling. She went to him, very confused. Just a few weeks ago, a boy named Ari had moved in with them, and although at first mom was a little angry, she later had accepted him in and called him son. According to him, his mother was an old family friend. He was 19 years old; she still didn't know what to make of him, though he had taught her ways to kick butt for real, without pretending. Dad seemed pretty unhappy, and she still didn't understand why he was there, with them, right now. She wondered why he was there instead of mom. Dad usually left them alone, since Ziva danced and sang a lot at her recitals and dad considered that to be too girly. He looked like he had aged 100 years. She called out to her, and she knew that somehow, everything had changed. "Ziva, Tali come here now."

He sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "You do know that your mother loved you very much, don't you?"

She frowned at this; she did know this, but she didn't get how this applied now. "She's dead. She died from the bomb, from the shrapnel."

Ziva frowned even deeper at this, and found tears forming in her eyes. Tali just looked confused at this. "Isn't mama coming back?"

"She can't Tali. She's gone, gone forever. You will see her when it is your time."

At that moment, Ziva knew that dancing and singing and dolls would be gone, and she knew that everything had changed. She didn't know how, but they had, and not in a good way.

**Note- I looked at the reviews so far, and I thank you for them. Please note that this is not a book Tony is writing; it is just him remembering what she had told him. **


	4. Cold Eyes

**Sorry for taking so long. Hope you like it; please tell me what you think.**

"Again!"

Once again, Ziva struck the man standing in front of her with her foot, knocking him down. They sparred for a few minutes until the other man called a halt. Four years had changed Ziva, in ways that she didn't know, but still showed. She was not the happy little girl who played dolls. She was that little 10-year old girl who knew three languages, who could kill someone if she had to, who sparred, who was willing to kill.

"Very good. Now, try it again, but really push it."

As she fought once again, she thought back to how it had progressed. First, getting out of the woods blindfolded. Then, sparring and learning languages and knowing guns and bombs. To her father, she was coming along just fine. She didn't care; she had stopped caring so long ago, she didn't even remember. As she gave the man she fought a punch to the throat that would kill him if she put enough force behind it, her half-brother, Ari Aswari, commanded her. "No mercy, no feelings, no thought. Just strike them and get them down for the count."

As she did as she was told and killed the terrorist she was sparring with, she wondered how proud her father was.


	5. Smoky Eyes

"Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"Really and truly Ziva. I will be fine."

Ziva smiled at her young sister. Tali was sixteen and nothing could touch her.

_= Later that Day =_

Ziva saw her sister in the crowd around the fountain. She smiled and waved at her. Tali smiled and shouted something that was drowned out by the sound of an explosion, and suddenly Tali disappeared. As people brushed by her in an attempt to get to the people, Ziva stood stock still, her mind blank and numb. Gentle hands tugged her towards an ambulance and a soft voice said she was in shock.

_= Three Days Later =_

Ziva left the cemetery, her face red from silent tears. Her father had been "busy", so she had attended Tali's funeral alone. People had offered condolences, but that could not bring her back. No thing and no one could. As she slept that night, her head was filled with images of Tali, little Tali, five years old, being blown to pieces. As she woke up and realized for the final time that Tali was gone forever, she remembered what she had thought as Tali went up in smoke.

"Not her. Never her."


	6. Hidden Eyes

It was an order. An ultimatum really. He dies or they both die. That was her choice. She didn't believe he could do that, really and truly she doubted he could have done that. But he was not what he seemed. Ari was not the man who had gone to Tali's funeral with her. He was not the man who called her to see if she was all right after she nearly died in Cairo. Ari was not who he seemed to be. He was a killer. Not an assassin, not a needed hand of justice, but a cold-blooded who did not care who died as long as one man was dead.

* * *

A gunshot rang out in the dark basement, and a body fell silently to the floor. As Gibbs turned around, Ziva moved with a practiced cat-like grace. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes screamed of hidden pain. He asked her, "Was he your brother?"

"Yes."

This answer was given with a pain-filled voice, and the voice that started the prayers for the dead wavered with sadness and pain. Gibbs put a hand on her shoulder, then headed upstairs to call Ducky. As she said these all-too-familiar prayers, she wondered how many people she would have to say them for. And then, looking up at the still open door, she wondered how many people he had said prayers for and how many people he had seen die without getting a chance to say goodbye. It was frightening thought to think.


	7. Teary Eyes

"Do you even care about him!?"

These words rang in Ziva's mind as she went into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror, really looked at herself. On the outside, she looked tired and strong. On the inside, she felt so sad, so scared, so worried. A few tears leaked out of her eyes, and she wiped them away hurriedly.

"Gibbs! Remember them! Remember Jenny, remember Abby, remember McGee, remember me, remember Tony, remember Kate…!"

He yelled, "I'm trying!"

She Gibbs' slapped him, and he suddenly flinched at the influx of memories. He said, "Ari killed Kate…"

"And I killed Ari."

A sob slipped out of her at that statement, and he carefully put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close as tears that she had held in for so long slipped out. He patted her on the back, and wondered why he had never seen this before.


	8. Lost Eyes

Ziva walked into the bullpen. They were all gone. She took a deep breath and inhaled Roy's scent from his bright orange jogging cap. She had broken the rules. And paid the price. But she had been too close the moment she realized that she knew him, albeit just by passing him every day. She took in another deep breath, this one to steady her suddenly broken breathing. She refused to let more tears fall for him. She was going to his funeral. She was going to wear his jogging cap every time she went jogging, so she would not forget him. She was going to get over this. She was going to let him go, going to realize that he was gone. She was going to realize he was gone the moment that he smoked that first cigar in the hospital. As she took another deep breath, Tony appeared behind her. He said nothing, just stood behind her for a long time. And eventually her breathing slowed and she started to lean against him, a natural thing. And eventually he spoke.

"_I'm sorry."_


	9. Doubting Eyes

Ziva looked across the bullpen to where Tony was sitting. This had been a hard case, possibly the hardest case they had had to deal with as a team. She shoved the thought that Kate's death was harder out of the way. That was harder, but she had not been there. Her eyes almost started to water. Almost. She had been strong, a weapon; her father's pride and joy. But now, she wasn't so sure if he let her go back because he wanted her to be here in America or because he didn't think she was strong enough for Mossad anymore. She shook that thought from her head also. It was absurd. She knew that he loved her, knew that he cared for her. And yet would he have ordered her to go get an X-Ray? Would he have told her to not go into work the next day? Would he have checked to make sure she was okay before sending her out into the field again? Or would he have just sent her out, regardless of the consequences? Internally, she shook her head. This case had placed doubts in her head. She was fine; all of them were fine. They were alive and well; her friends were. Her father, her family, who was working in Israel, had sent her here because she was needed here, as a liaison. That was why Gibbs had sent her to get checked out; this case had placed doubts in her head. She shouldn't doubt them; any of them. Her family had sent her here because she was needed, and her friends took care of her, regardless of whether she wanted it or not.


	10. A Soldier's Eyes

This was it; it was over. Jenny was dead. She was being sent back to Israel. It had all happened so fast; who was it that had said that time flied when you least wanted it to? She was going back; back to her father, who she had not seen in two years. She was going to do her job, whether she liked to or not. Because what ever they said, she was a soldier, and soldiers did what they were told, no questions asked.

**Okay, so realized I hadn't written in a while. I take full blame; I am a very bad procrastinator. So, please, tell me if you like these or not.**


End file.
